The Secret Task
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Merlin is set a task that no one can know about by a very secretive Arthur. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MBM!


**HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY MAGICBYMERLIN!!! **i'm sorry, they were out of stock of Colin, so i did what i could! ;) Hope you have a great day, hun!

thanks to Piratemoose for checking this for me, it's a little hard when you're trying to keep it secret from your beta!

_Enjoy!_

"Finally, Merlin, what took you so long?" Arthur had been pacing his rooms anxiously for some time now, waiting for his idiot of a servant to turn up. Today was the worst day possibly that Merlin could pick to be late, he knew how important today was. And yet the fool still managed it, scrambling through the door long after he should have been here, his arms an assortment of clothes, parchment, armour, and even (although Arthur was sure that his mind was seeing things), a bunch of flowers, all crushed in his haste. Struggling back to his feet, Merlin left the belongings lying on the floor and instead looked up at his master, wincing slightly when he saw the expression on his face. Deciding that a feeble excuse was probably better than none, the warlock had a stab at explaining his lateness.

"It wasn't my fault, honest. Gaius wanted me to clean the floor again from where he had spilt some strange potion thing last night. You should have heard the noises it made when it hit the-,"

"_Mer_lin," Arthur cried, exasperated. They were never going to get anything done if Merlin continued to babble on about some mysterious potion that Gaius had been working on. The physician's ward seemed to be trying to learn everything that there was to know about Gaius's foul smelling concoctions, meaning that a frustrated prince often had to resort to extreme measures to make the idiot shut up. Luckily, Merlin took the hint this time and shut his mouth, only to look expectantly at Arthur.

"You did remember to bring what I asked you to, didn't you?" Arthur couldn't help but bite his lip in anxiety as Merlin stared about frantically on the floor into the muddle of objects that were scattered by the door from his latest clumsy entrance. Finally, after what seemed like forever to Arthur, he bent down triumphantly and plucked two things from the mess.

"What do you take me for, Arthur? An idiot?" Catching sight of the small smirk playing across Arthur's lips and the slight raising of the royal eyebrows, Merlin groaned, he had walked straight into that one.

Deciding just this once to gloss over the opportunity to tell Merlin just how much of an idiot the prince really thought he was, he instead settled for striding forward and grabbing the objects out of the warlock's arms, ignoring the slightly surprised cry that accompanied it as Arthur forcefully removed them to the safety of his table.

"Well? Don't just stand there, _Mer_lin, get on with it!"

"Me?" Merlin yelped, causing Arthur to once again raise his eyebrows in a very dignified way at Merlin's very undignified cry. "Why do I have to do it? I always have…yep, ok, I'm doing it."

Arthur nodded in a self satisfied manner as he none too gentle pushed Merlin into the chair. Of course Merlin had to be the one to do it; he was the servant after all. Imagine if one of the knights walked in and saw him, the crowned prince of Camelot, doing _that._ It was too unbearable to even consider thinking about. The servant in front of him didn't seem to realise that, however, and was glaring at the table furiously. Slightly worried about what would happen if Merlin continued to look like that, Arthur hastily threw done the final objects needed, causing the warlock to shift his gaze. The look on the black haired boy's face made Arthur extremely anxious, it looked like something was about to burst into flames. Deciding that something needed to be done, and fast if it was to save his chambers from becoming a smouldering mess, the prince prodded Merlin in the back of the head.

"I thought I told you to get on with it."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin groaned, sounding like a man sentenced to the executioners block. He picked up the first of the items and stopped again, before sending a puzzled glance over his shoulder at Arthur.

"Now what?"

"What do you want me to put?"

Arthur frowned at Merlin. He hadn't even thought about that. It had seemed like a brilliant plan at the time, but now, Arthur was not so sure. It seemed to have danger written all over it, and that was just getting over the hurdles of being able to begin it.

"_Dear..?"_ Arthur supplied helpfully, watching closely as Merlin bent forward again, slowly dipping the end of the quill into the bottle of ink. Just as he made to make the first stroke on the parchment, Arthur let out a shout that caused the warlock to jump violently, knocking over the ink in the process. By some unknown fate, the ink went the other way, staining everything within reach, but leaving the parchment unscathed.

"Stop! Merlin, stop. You can't put _dear, _it's too formal. I want this to be informal."

"How about _To?_" Merlin asked, frowning in concentration as he unscrewed the new bottle of ink and carefully loaded up the pen, ready to write.

"Nah, that's too informal. It needs to be formal than that."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

"Don't take that tone with me, _Mer_lin." Arthur replied heatedly, striding up and down over the same spot of floor, not noticing that he was walking through the ink and so causing a nice train of inky footprints across his room and back again. Merlin noticed. Groaning inwardly, the servant closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the mess that no doubt he would be cleaning up once that they finished with this _thing. _He was spared from answering the prince, however, by a well timed knock on the door.

At Arthur's command, the door opened and a knight poked his head around the door, looking awestruck at being in the prince's chambers. However, they were not quite what he imagined. There was a pile of belongings strewn across the threshold of the door, ink spread everywhere and a very frustrated prince pacing behind an anxious looking servant. Gaping in astonishment at the sight in front of him, the knight completely forgot what the message he was supposed to deliver had even been.

"Well?" Arthur demanded haughtily, subtly switching his position so that he was standing directly in front of where Merlin was sitting, shielding him from unwanted eyes. Only that it wasn't the warlock he was shielding, but the piece of parchment that Merlin had once again began to slowly write upon. It would not do for anyone to find out about this, especially not if it meant that word would get back to the King about what his son was up too when he should have been training.

"Erm...the King requests your presence at dinner tonight, my Lord." The knight gabbled quickly, as if afraid that his message would disappear from his mind again if he did not practically spit the words out, hoping that the prince did not think him disrespectful. He was so anxious to impress the young prince that he was now offering to do any jobs that led him in the vague direction of Arthur, hoping to somehow catch his attention. Now, it would seem, was not that time.

"Of course. You can go now." If the knight was stunned at his abrupt dismissal, he was at least able to hide it as he bowed his head and backed out of the room, struggling to keep the door clear of the mess all over the floor. As soon as he was gone, Merlin stopped writing and looked up at Arthur, who had let out an explosive breath of relief when the knight left.

"That was close," He breathed, trying to calm his racing heart, "Too close."

"Do you know how to spell it?" Merlin asked quietly, not wanting to admit that he didn't know how to spell the dreaded word that had bought about this much trouble.

"You mean you don't know?" Arthur asked in amazement, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. Glancing away to hide his annoyance, Merlin couldn't help but think that Arthur had been spending too much time around Gaius, he was sure that his eyebrows never used to be this energetic before.

"Why don't you write it if you're not going to help me out?" Merlin snapped, somewhat waspishly.

"What, and miss the fun of watching you struggle alone? Come on, Merlin, it's not that hard, just spell it out loud and I'll tell you whether or not you are right."

"It would have been so much easier if you just sent flowers." Merlin grumbled as he bent back over the parchment again, more to himself than Arthur. But Arthur being Arthur was not going to let that go unchallenged.

"Or I could have just given them _you. _That would certainly make my life a lot easier."

"Mine too," Merlin mumbled; only this time, he made sure that it was too quiet for Arthur to hear. He didn't want to know what the reaction would be if the arrogant prince had caught that last sentence. Luckily, Arthur had stopped listening, but was instead gazing at his floor, transfixed by the mess that he had managed to make without noticing.

"You know you said that you had lots of practice cleaning floors, Merlin?" He began innocently, receiving only a grunt in reply as Merlin concentrated on the task before him. Not wanting to distract the warlock any more in case it went wrong, Arthur never finished the end of his sentence, but instead switched his gaze onto his servant, noting with some amusement that Merlin stuck the end of his tongue out when he was concentrating.

The time passed slowly as Merlin slaved away on his job. Three times he had to restart, although he was certain that the last time was all Arthur's fault. The prince was not good when he was bored and so had switched between pacing, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair and sighing loudly, often without reason. Oh, and taken to kicking the back of Merlin's chair, resulting in the third piece of smudged parchment and one very annoyed warlock. Taking a deep breath to stop himself from snapping again at his master, Merlin instead dragged the next piece of parchment towards him, determined that this one would not be ruined. If it was, the warlock couldn't help but let slightly sadistic thoughts wash across his mind about what Arthur's blond hair would look like after the bottle of ink had been emptied over it.

Luckily for Arthur, the fourth attempt worked. Stretching his aching fingers out gratefully, Merlin let out a shout of joy when he realised that he had finished. Almost immediately, Arthur reached forward and snatched up the finished piece, for once taking notice of Merlin's warnings that the ink was still wet. Smiling with satisfaction at the way that his ingenious plan had worked after all, Arthur carefully lay the parchment back on the table, placing his swords either side of it so that nothing could reach the precious document.

"Who is a genius?" He crowed triumphantly, not noticing Merlin's disbelieving look as the servant climbed to his feet, stretching his stiff back with glee from all the time of being stuck in Arthur's chair.

"Delivery time. Off you go, Merlin."

"So now I have to deliver as well as write," Merlin grumbled, picking the parchment up all the same.

"I can hardly take it, can I?" Arthur pointed out, too pleased with himself to be annoyed at his manservant. Warning Merlin that he better be careful with the document, Arthur watched closely as Merlin carefully tucked it into his bag for safekeeping. Heading for the door, Merlin turned back to say something to Arthur, just as he took a step forward, into the mess.

With a loud clang, the warlock went flying, stumbling through all of the mess and bursting out through the doors to land in a heap out in the corridor, scaring a couple of maids senseless as they went about their every day business. Laughing, Arthur strode out himself to help the servant to his feet, his heart almost stopping as Merlin tenderly placed his hand in the bag. With baited breath, the two of them watched silently as Merlin carefully pulled the document out. With a heartfelt sigh of thanks, the servant decided to hold onto it this time, determined that the ink would not smudge and that it would not be ruined before it reached its destination.

Setting off again in the direction that he needed to go in, Merlin felt Arthur's gaze boring into the back of his head, watching his every step. The servant knew that this document needed to get to its destination in one piece, the prince's reputation rested on it. No pressure for the delivery boy, then.

As he rounded the corner that would take him towards the town again, Merlin couldn't help but think one thing.

Next year, Arthur could write his own flippin' birthday cards.

**There, what did you reckon?**

**Once again, happy birthday!**


End file.
